


The Feet of the Master

by Severely_Lupine



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, post-DH
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-23
Updated: 2009-11-23
Packaged: 2017-10-03 14:53:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severely_Lupine/pseuds/Severely_Lupine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Potter was trying not to stare.  Really, he was.<br/>Snape's feet.<br/>They were naked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Feet of the Master

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ferporcel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ferporcel/gifts).



Harry Potter was trying not to stare.  Really, he was.

He'd popped over to Snape's home to ask him some questions about the Death Eaters they were still trying to round up and had apparently caught him off-guard.  That fact alone startled Harry beyond reason.  After all, the war was over, most of Snape's enemies were either dead or on the run, and the Death Eaters knew that Snape's house was under constant watch from Aurors, in case any of his old friends were stupid enough to try to contact him, expecting help.  Why shouldn't Snape be allowed to finally let his guard down?

Still, the sight of Snape sans imposing robes, dressed only in a light jumper and loose trousers, shocked Harry into silence. 

"What do you want, Potter?" Snape had sneered when he'd opened the door to find Harry standing dumbly on his doorstep.

Harry had glanced down, trying to get his bearings, when he saw them.

Snape's feet.

They were naked.

And now, after Harry had managed to state his purpose and Snape had invited him in and grudgingly offered him tea, they were still naked.

"Who is it this time?" Snape asked, taking a sip from a plain grey teacup. 

"Dolohov," Harry said quickly, using the distraction Snape's tea provided the former Potions master to take another quick glance at his feet.

They were long and thin.  That much was expected.  Quite clean, though, and pale.

"You haven't caught him yet?" Snape sneered.  "After what he did to Lupin, I'd have expected him to be at the top of your list."

Harry's eyes snapped to Snape's, the mention of his dead friend sending a jolt of rage through him.  "He is.  But he's been . . . particularly problematic."

"I don't doubt it," Snape said, his gaze drifting to the window behind Harry's head.

And Harry's gaze once again drifted to Snape's feet. 

The nails were neatly trimmed, though no more than that.  The arches were not unduly sharp or exceptionally bony, as Harry considered his own feet to be.  The toes were long and slender without being freakishly bulbous like so many people's toes were.  

"There is a place in Lithuania," Snape was saying.  "A brothel that was a favorite of his.  He seemed to have some sort of especial fondness for the owner of the establishment.  I would not be surprised if he—Potter, what are you looking at?"

Harry blushed.  "Er . . . your . . ."

Snape looked down at his feet, then back to Harry.  His lip curled.  "Have something to say, do you?" he challenged.

Harry shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts.  "Sorry, it's just . . . I've never seen your feet before."

"Surely you realized I _had_ them."  His classroom voice was back.  His _I teach dunderheads_ classroom voice.

"Of course I did!" Harry snapped, then ran a hand through his hair.  "It's going to take some time to get used to this new, more relaxed version of you.  It's bad enough you're not wearing the robes, but _bare feet_?"

"Do they offend you?" Snape asked icily. 

"Not at all," Harry said truthfully.  "It just . . . I'm sorry.  I can't explain it."

Snape examined him for several seconds, then said, "You've seen my most intimate memories, and the sight of my feet shocks you?"

Harry laughed, surprising both of them.  "Yeah, I know, it's silly.  I guess maybe . . . it's nice.  That you _can_ relax, I mean, after all these years.  You deserve to be able to walk around barefoot if you want, without having to always be ready to run off and fight some war."

Snape's expression softened.  As much as it ever did, at least.  "Thank you," he said quietly.  "It is . . . refreshing." 

"Now."  Harry cleared his throat and tried to act like the professional Auror he was.  "You were saying you know where Dolohov might be?"


End file.
